


Simple Affection

by CherryRedBomb



Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, F/M, First Kiss, My First Work in This Fandom
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-05-07
Updated: 2019-05-07
Packaged: 2020-02-27 16:12:04
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,114
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18742513
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CherryRedBomb/pseuds/CherryRedBomb
Summary: Jaime is good friends with Brienne. Just friends though, of course. If she needs help moving in, he'll be there because friendship, no other reason or motive at all, nope!





	Simple Affection

**Author's Note:**

> Wrote this for a friend after they asked me on tumblr abt jaime x brienne headcanons and this scenario bloomed in my mind. Here's the link to said post if you want to see the inspiration for this: https://that-one-fandom-chick.tumblr.com/post/184600643577/give-me-all-the-best-hcs-you-have-about

They're in her new apartment. Boxes are stacked and strewn wildly across the wooden floors, some threatening to spill their contents.

For about an hour now, they've worked side by side in comfortable rotation between silence, ribbing, and light conversation. She had asked him to come by to help, but, as much as he hates to admit it, Jaime knows he hasn't been much more than company.

He should be helping unpack but he keeps stopping to watch her. Brienne is methodical, competent in a way that gets him going more than he'd like to admit. 

And she's wearing a loose tank that shows off her arms, back, and shoulders. He can't help but stare. 

Lifting with her legs and not her back like the true genius she is, he admires the way she carries one particularly heavy container (he should know, she got him to carry it up the stairs when she first moved here) with apparent ease. 

She's so strong, Jaime thinks dreamily. 

Then, he thinks again, a smile beginning to play across his lips. 

"Hey Brienne," he calls out, "time for a break!" He claps his hands together. Time for a break indeed. Not just because if he calls it now she might not realize how long he's been doing nothing, but because he has an idea. 

She keeps at her current task of folding clothes into a drawer, but he persists. 

Moving a few boxes closer to the drawers they're supposed to fill, he leans casually on the dresser top. 

"So Brienne," he calls out again, smooth as ever.

She twists her head back to peer at him over her shoulder this time. "Yes, Jaime?"

His elbow slips off the edge of the dresser and he stumbles before regaining his footing. 

It's for that reason that he also stumbles over what he tries to say next, not anything to do with being struck suddenly by the domesticity of the evening, of their shared takeout meal at the beginning of the night, their casual closeness while they worked. 

"Uhhhh..." he almost forgets what he's going to say, "uhh, oh yes! Brienne, I bet you can't carry me."

She turns around now, eyebrows draped low over her eyes that stare back at him with an expression that can only be described as "seriously?"

"Jaime," she says matter-of-factly, "we've been going to the gym together for months, more than a year even. You've seen what I can bench, squat, deadlift, and I have likewise with you. I am most definitely strong enough to--"

She doesn't finish her sentence because as she was speaking it, Jaime was striding across the room and at this point, hands coming to rest on her shoulders, he presses down slightly as he jumps up.

Jaime's brain threatens to short-circuit when an instant later he realizes he's still mid-air, being held up in an unwavering grip that spreads across a mix of meshy fabric and very, very warm skin where his basketball shorts have ridden up.

His legs are tight against her and his feet are hooked together in the back. She seems unfazed, completely and utterly. Jaime thinks with a vaguely delirious rush, maybe, that he's blushing. 

Then, just as suddenly as she had caught him, a smile breaks out across her face, glinting like a sword in the sunlight. 

He feels his own face split into a grin to match, a little disbelieving but equally bright. 

"As I was SAYING," Brienne says, still smiling, even having the audacity to bounce him up and down like a child, "I am most definitely strong enough to carry you."

Before Jaime can reply, Brienne begins to spin them around and instead of words, a fond and joyful laugh bubbles out of him, conveying more than anything he could've said. 

An answering giggle sounds off from Brienne and she spins him faster. They're both laughing like idiots and now he's marvelling at the fact that she can be laughing this much and seemingly still hasn't broken a sweat or looked out of breath. No, Jaime thinks instead, she looks gorgeous and I can't believe she's this fucking strong. 

Finally, as Brienne slows her revolutions, Jaime finds that his arms are now looped around her neck, and in fact, he's migrated closer to the point that his chin is now hooked quite snugly over her shoulder. He pulls back to find his face mere inches from hers.

She's staring into his eyes, he's staring into hers. They're still filled with mirth and he wants to dive in and swim in those azure depths. 

She licks her lips and his eyes track the movement instinctively and he glances up just in time to catch her eyes dropping to his own lips. 

He swallows hard when he feels her hands flex around his thighs as she tightens her grip. 

Time has slowed to a standstill, he is reliving the past year of their burgeoning friendship in fast forward, in less than a minute, reconsidering every lingering glance and inconspicuous touch. 

Tentatively, he slides his hands up from where they hung loosely linked around her shoulders up to her neck and into her short blonde hair. He searches her gaze and fights the urge to swoon or to pump his fist in boyish, childish victory when he finds a matching anticipation.

Before he can ruin the moment, he moves finally and decisively, hands gently resting on either side of her face as he leans in and she tilts her head and their eyes close--

The kiss is gentle. He didn't know what kissing Brienne would be like, he had pretended it wasn't something he thought about, convinced himself of that even, but now as their lips meet, he realizes it feels like coming home and like finding himself, like knowing he's a person outside of Cersei's or his father's manipulations, like just now understanding how deeply he cares for another person and the soaring realization that the feeling is reciprocated.

He's so caught up in the sensations and his reflections that he doesn't realize they're moving. 

The kiss breaks apart abruptly as Brienne slams Jaime into a wall and he opens his mouth to object but this time she's kissing him and it's less gentle and more heated and that thigh grip tightens again with a little clearer intent behind it and Jaime's brain is too muddled for reflection now, he's tumbling down a spiral staircase of hapless joy. 

She pulls back from the kiss and he hits the floor, mentally and physically. 

"Sorry," Brienne says, smiling with a devilish air about her and holding a hand out to help him up, "arms got tired."


End file.
